When Sci-Fi's Ladies Meet
by Cora Clavia
Summary: Kate Beckett seeks advice from some luminaries. Caskett, oneshot.


a/n: An alternate title might be "My Love Letter To The Sci-Fi I Have Loved For So Long." That seemed a little wordy.

* * *

According to strict, unyielding, cosmic law, it must begin with coffee.

The coffeemaker hummed and burbled as the council filed in, taking seats around the polished semicircular table, chatting quietly among themselves. The speaker's table before them was empty, but there was a water glass on it, and the light was on; clearly, there was a speaker on the agenda.

"Well, ladies," Kathryn Janeway started from her seat in the center. "Good morning. If we've all got our caffeine, shall we get started?"

A murmur of assent rose from the rest of the group. Scully was still pouring her own cup at the counter, but she waved a hand at Janeway. "Go on, I can hear."

"Glad to hear it." Janeway pulled out her agenda. "Today we have a question from a police detective named Kate Beckett. You'll find her resume in front of you."

There was a long pause as the women flipped through, reading quietly. Janeway gave them a moment to scan the pages.

"Excuse me, Captain. I have a question," someone piped up from down the table.

Janeway leaned over. "Yes, Doctor?"

Elizabeth Weir turned over the resume in front of her. "Given that we don't have extensive law enforcement experience on this council - apart from you, of course, Agent Scully - can we assume she's looking for help in another area?"

"Well, given that she's chosen to come to science fiction," Janeway chuckled, "I would hope so."

Weir smiled. "I suppose we'll find out."

* * *

The doors finally slid open, and Kate Beckett took a deep breath, walking into the council chamber, with its lofty, dark wood detailing, plaques lining the walls bearing names she didn't quite recognize, the ceiling wreathed with banners representing the council members.

The councilwomen themselves were settled along a long table before her, nameplates emblazoned with names, titles, insignias, and initialisms. FBI. SGC. SGA. _Serenity_. Starfleet.

In the center, hands folded, sat a brisk, petite woman whose nameplate indicated that she was Captain Kathryn Janeway, _USS Voyager_. She smiled. "Detective Beckett. Welcome."

"Thank you for seeing me." Kate settled in her chair, smoothing down the front of her trousers. "The law enforcement council is on sabbatical, and I was desperate to get some advice. Dr. Burke suggested I reach out to you."

"Oh, of course." Beverly Crusher smiled fondly. "He's an old friend."

"Well, consider this an official welcome to science fiction." Janeway settled back in her chair. "How can we help?"

* * *

Kate hesitated, staring at the panel in front of her. It had taken a long time to open up to Dr. Burke in a meaningful way, and while she'd put a lot of effort into learning to trust, it still made her pulse race.

But she was here, and at least these women looked receptive.

"It's about a man."

The words felt so juvenile that she wished she could bite them back - how pathetic, asking such a teenaged question to this panel of luminaries - but Zoe Washburne just waved a hand at her. "No need to be embarrassed. You'd be surprised how many have come in with the same questions."

"It's true," Dana Scully added. "The job is the easy part. Personal life is where it gets messy."

"Right." Kate nodded slowly. "His name is Rick. He's a writer, and he's been working with me at the precinct. He helps with casework."

Janeway nodded slowly. "But he's not a policeman himself, correct?"

"No. He started out shadowing me, as research for a series of books. And he just...never left."

Beverly tilted her head. "That's - kind of sweet, actually."

Kate couldn't help but laugh at that, however ruefully. "You know, there are times I pretend it's not, but as much as I hate to admit it, it's a lot more enjoyable with him around."

 _I have a hard job, Castle. And having you around makes it...a little more fun._

The soft warmth that suffused the memory was inescapable, a glow that was born out of one more terrible day in a career built on solving tragedies.

It wasn't the first time she'd realized just how many of those better days involved him.

"You're smiling."

Janeway's voice jarred Kate out of her reverie, and she took in a breath. "Sorry. Just - thinking."

Beverly raised an eyebrow. "About him?"

Kate flushed. Maybe this wasn't the time to get lost in thought.

"Let her be, Doctor," Zoe chided. "I'll take that kind of honesty any day."

Beverly laughed. "It's actually very endearing."

"Can I ask -" Elizabeth was still turning over the papers in front of her, more absently than consciously - "is there any kind of agreement between you? Have you talked to him?"

Kate let out a frustrated breath. She wasn't even sure how to explain it. "We don't really talk about it. Ever."

Samantha Carter let out a huff, muttering something that sounded like _welcome to my life_ into her coffee cup.

Elizabeth Weir shot Sam a sympathetic look, quickly turning back to Kate. "So - communication can be difficult. But you're sure that your feelings are reciprocated? - and he wants the same thing you do?"

"If I gave him the slightest indication, he'd be at my door in a heartbeat."

"So you're trying to decide if you should initiate something?" Janeway nodded slowly. "That's a predicament."

Kate smiled. It was a relief to know she wasn't completely on her own. "I don't know what to do."

Kathryn Janeway fixed her with a long look. The petite woman radiated authority in a way Kate had rarely seen. The thought of her commanding a starship seemed perfectly natural.

"Does he love you?" the captain asked suddenly.

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"It's the last thing I remember when I got shot. He said he loved me."

"How did that make you feel?"

 _Terrified._

"I wasn't sure how to feel."

"Did you already know?"

The rest of the panel were watching with interest, and Kate had the sudden, clear realization that this was the most daunting interrogation she'd ever experienced.

"I - hadn't thought about it so plainly, but - I knew it was getting serious."

"So - something about this troubles you?" Dana Scully asked.

"I don't want to lose my ability to do my job. It's important to me. I can't throw it away just to -" _To be in love_. "There's a part of me that just - doesn't think I can balance everything."

There was a long silence, and finally, Zoe Washburne spoke up. "I think you're dancing around something bigger here. You seem miles too sharp to worry over something so vague. What's your real question?"

Kate met the woman's eyes, keen and bright, and something made her pause. Zoe was a lioness; she had the look of a woman who'd faced down everything that had challenged her. A woman who wasted no time.

 _I wish I were like that._

The thought hadn't occurred to her, but Kate suddenly, now, realized just why she'd had so much trouble approaching this council: she just wasn't asking the right question.

So she took a long breath.

"I know there's always a sacrifice. How do I know which one to make?"

"I don't think anyone ever really knows." Elizabeth's voice was gentle. "The best we ever do is guess, isn't it?"

It was good to know her question wasn't too strange, but Kate couldn't help wishing there was a more clear-cut answer. "I keep thinking it's better to be cautious than to make the wrong choice."

"I think you make a good point," Beverly added. "There's nothing wrong with thinking things through before diving into a relationship, no matter how tempting it is."

"But then what are you giving up in the meantime?"

Heads turned to Samantha Carter, who was staring at her coffee cup with a pensive look on her face.

Elizabeth briefly touched Sam's hand. "Personal experience?"

"It didn't like too much of a sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. But on a small scale - that's a different story."

"I know what you mean," Elizabeth said. "As much as I might - want -" she shook her head - "when I looked around me, and realized what I had, just by giving up this one thing - how could I say no to that?"

Janeway nodded. "Strange, isn't it? It's so easy to hold a principle. Living through it, though. That takes time. Every day itself is easy. But string them together long enough, and you suddenly start to think about what you're missing."

Sam swirled her remaining coffee in her mug. "You know, I worked side-by-side with him for years. He knew how I felt. I knew how he felt. But we just - we never gave in. We spent years burying it. And I don't regret it - we literally saved the world, more than once - but as selfish as it is…"

"- you can't help but wonder," Elizabeth finished for her, smiling quietly. "What those years might have been like."

Sam smiled back at her. "Exactly."

"At least I had it." Zoe swirled her cup around slowly, watching the coffee with eyes that didn't quite see it. "Don't get me wrong, we had our tough times. But I loved my Wash with everything I had. Wouldn't give up a moment of it, not for anything."

"I envy that," Dana Scully told her. "Not that it's always possible, or realistic for everyone. But to find that - it's a beautiful thing."

Zoe smiled at that, a faraway look in her eyes, and Kate wished she had hours more here, time to ask for everyone's whole story. She worked with information; cases were solved with facts, and she needed to gather everything.

It was reassuring to know she wasn't the only woman dealing with a confusing romantic life, though.

"I don't know that there is an answer," Janeway said quietly. "If there is, I've yet to find it."

"So what do we tell the detective here?" Scully waved a hand at Kate. "I'm sure she'd appreciate some kind of analytical approach."

"I think the question is: what is it costing you? What would you have to sacrifice? And which one is more worthwhile?" Elizabeth shrugged. "It's really just a risk assessment, albeit one with high stakes."

Beverly Crusher had fallen silent for a while, watching the others talk, but she finally spoke up.

"Do you love him?"

The council room was silent but for the humming of the lights, and Kate finally realized that the answer was tremendously simple.

"Yes."

"So what's standing in your way, then?"

"What's - what?"

Janeway, who had clearly caught on to Beverly's line of thinking, tilted her head quizzically. "Why can't you do this? Regulations? Laws? What is it?"

Kate opened her mouth, but words weren't coming. "I -" she hesitated - "there's not exactly -"

"You mean to tell us," Janeway asked slowly, "that there is _absolutely no reason_ for you to keep your hands off this man?"

"What about you?" It sounded defensive, even to her own ears, but Kate was running out of defenses. "What did you have standing in your way?"

Janeway sat back, folding her arms. "I had Starfleet protocol, and a crew of over a hundred I had to get across the entire galaxy."

"Court martial," said Carter.

"The SGC and IOA would have crucified me," Elizabeth added. "And the president. And Homeworld Command. And the U.N."

And despite her years of experience, her badge, her gun, her sterling record, Kate suddenly felt tiny. Young. Greener than the first day she put on the uniform.

Would it really be so easy?

* * *

"Detective," Janeway said finally, "we would normally dismiss you and discuss this among ourselves. However, after this, I think we're already in agreement here." She glanced up and down the table, seeing nods. "The decision is obviously yours. But our advice? If you know you want this, don't wait. Time is fleeting. Most of us have learned this the hard way."

Kate looked down the panel. There was a story on everyone's face. Beverly Crusher looked wistful. Elizabeth and Sam looked like they'd just discovered they shared something, and even Dana Scully seemed like she was nursing a secret, something she kept buried.

After hearing advice from two galaxies, she suddenly felt like maybe it wasn't so daunting.

Maybe it really was that simple.

"Thank you for your time."

Janeway smiled. "Feel free to come to us again, Detective. We're happy to help."

* * *

Kate woke with a start, her heart pounding.

Her bedroom was dark and silent, the images in her mind dissolving as she looked around at the soft play of shadows.

 _That was a weird dream._


End file.
